A chaos of themes erupts
A time of allowing anarchy to thrive
Sleeping in the gasses of the fossils
Needing no ones permission
We let our troubles slip away
All the time it is a guess at ecstacy
Needling, our minds search for the flaw
Picking, we are forever unquiet
Worrying, we miss what’s under our nose
The dream is forever unreal
A distribution of bread catches our eye
We go
A time is had of waiting
And we have it!
On the way home, we pause to draw water from the well
The well that never runs dry

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